Betrayal
by CaseyBensonNovak
Summary: Olivia finally reveals the source of her bad temper. But Casey, subjected to the truth, is sent into a downward spiral. Angry and depressed, she consoles herself in ways she knows she shouldn't. But one distraction proves disastrous. Olivia may not get a chance to apologize. Rated M for sex, rape, and graphic violence. C/O pairing. Mild Bensaro. C/A friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I honestly cannot remember the last time I published a story independently from Liv-x-Case-Benson. However, the idea for this particular fiction came to me recently, and I felt it was one I had to write by myself. I will be updating at least once every week, and perhaps more._

_Major themes in this story involve sex, drama, addiction, love, heartbreak, and betrayal. For this reason, it is exclusively rated M. Sit back, enjoy, and please review. Every writer needs readers :)._

It shouldn't matter. It should not affect me like this. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as the beautiful redhead placed her scalding tea on her nightstand and laid on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she sighed in despair, folding her arms across her flat stomach. A week ago, she had been happy. Well, she had been stressed and exhausted, but beyond that, she was as happy as an overworked, pregnant and lonely attorney could have been. Now, a mere seven days later, her heart was shattered, her mood sent into a bottomless abyss known by a single moniker: depression.

It had started with four words, as most things tended to do. "We need to talk." Those words could mean any number of things. It could be the boss with a warning, a suspension, or disappointment over the outcome of a trial. It could be a detective with the presentation of a new case. It could be anything. But, coming from one person, it meant something awful. So when Detective Olivia Benson had left a message on Casey's work phone, alerting her that they needed to speak immediately, the hairs on every inch of the redhead's body had shivered to full attention.

After work that night, she had called the detective, wondering what was wrong. It was, of course, a key fact that Olivia's home life involved a wife and unborn child. Casey, forced to sleep alone for weeks, had merely hoped for an explanation. She had futilely wished that the conversation would involve the words "I've been working long hours and something came out of it." Instead, when Olivia had answered the phone, a simple admission had shattered Casey's world.

It had started with a hello. Casey asked what was wrong, immediately noting the frustration and, dare she say, guilt in the detective's voice. Olivia took a deep breath. Casey could picture her rubbing her temples. It was a sign that the brunette was stressed. "Casey, we need to talk."

"Hence the phone call," Casey remembered pointing out. "Although, I cannot begin to understand how this is a conversation better equipped for a phone call. If you won't be home again tonight, just tell me. As it is, I only made enough dinner for myself."

"No, Casey, I won't be home tonight," Olivia admitted. She sighed again. Another pause screamed out of the phone. "Listen, I have to tell you something, and you have to promise me you will forgive me someday. I never wanted to hurt you."

Casey, ever the worrier, had aimlessly stirred her coffee. "Are you leaving me?" she asked, holding her breath as she waited for a response.

"No." Olivia growled lowly. "But after I tell you this, you will almost certainly leave me." Then, as if unable to wait for a response, she launched into explanation. "Casey," she began. "Do you remember two months ago, when I told you I wasn't coming home? I told you I was at work, remember?"

"Yes. And when I went to the precinct to talk to you, you weren't there. I was told you were out for coffee."

"Yes. Except.." A pregnant pause stood between the two women. "I wasn't," she admitted. "I was with someone."

Casey still cursed herself for the next words that had escaped her ruby red lips. "So you were questioning someone. Olivia, I don't care," she remembered saying. "I don't understand why you lied, but we are two months older, and I have not given that night a second thought."  
"Well, you need to!" Olivia almost sounded angry. It was as if Casey was a stubborn child, caught playing in the big kid crayons again. "I wasn't with a witness, or a perp, or anyone work related. I was, in a way, but..." She sighed. "That's not the point. I was in a hotel room. I was..with someone. All night, and most of the next morning, I was with someone. And, Casey?" Her voice softened. Now she was the teacher apologizing for yelling at the poor child. "We did things that should be reserved for my wife."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Casey gripped the counter for support. "You cheated on me." It came out as more of a fact, less of a question, and she was too stunned to readjust her tone. "Olivia, I...I don't know what to..." Then she realized the date. "If this is an April fool's joke, it's not funny! Wow, I almost believed you. How could I? You would never hurt us like that."

"Casey, it's April 2nd," Olivia murmured sadly. "No April Fool's joke. This is the truth, no matter how horrible or how cruel. I can't lie to you anymore, sweetheart."  
"Don't call me sweetheart!" Casey cried, sadness and anger seizing control of her lips. "Words such as sweetheart are reserved for faithful people. My cheating wife hardly fits that requirement."  
"I'm sorry!" Olivia insisted. "Casey, I didn't mean for it to happen. I—we were drunk. I made a mistake."  
Casey examined her perfect manicure carefully. "You were drunk when we first slept together too," she replied evenly. Her composure shocked even herself, considering all she wanted to do was throw herself at the wall and cry herself to death. "You make a lot of mistakes when you're drunk."

"Exactly." Olivia gasped as soon as she said it. "Oh, god, Casey, I didn't mean it like that."

"No problem. I have made some mistakes in my life too. One major mistake was marrying someone everyone said was the player of the Special Victims Unit."

"But I love you! I swear on my life, on Sarah's life! I would never do that to you intentionally. It happened once. It should have never happened, and I have spent every night since wishing I could change it. Casey, please believe me. I had to tell you to avoid hurting you."

Casey bit back a sudden flood of tears. "So to avoid hurting me, you confessed, and broke my heart. We would have been okay if I didn't know. Ever hear of blissful ignorance? Well, don't bother coming home. Consider your mistress's home your new abode."

And with that, the attorney slammed her phone onto the counter, watching as the battery cover popped off and the battery slid to the floor. The phone remained hollow, lifeless, unmoving. Its owner slid to the floor, devastated at the confession she had witnessed.

A loud honk shocked her back to the present. Casey sighed sadly, closing her eyes. Olivia still hadn't come home. They saw each other as little as possible. Casey delivered warrants when she knew Olivia would be out, and when Olivia tried to visit her at the office, Casey pretended to be in a meeting. And in court, when they were forced to speak to each other, Casey pretended they were strangers, instead of a married couple.

Olivia called, texted, and emailed. Casey read, ignored, and deleted. She could forgive Olivia. She could act as if nothing was wrong, but the knowledge of being cheated on was like a knife to the heart. The lethal wound could never fully heal, and even if it came close, the scar tissue would be an eternal reminder of the pain.

Casey began to cry softly. She had been in numerous relationships over the course of her life. None had been as passionate or as long lasting as her romance with Olivia. And when Olivia had proposed, just one month into their relationship, Casey had eagerly agreed. They were quickly wedded and bedded, and the redhead had deluded herself into believing in their fairy tale marriage.

Did any such thing exist? Casey sighed. The endless stream of tears down her porcelain cheeks refused to halt. "Olivia, how could you?" she asked the air. To make matters worse, the only thing she knew of the detective's mystery lover was the gender. Olivia would never cheat with a man.

If Casey could say one thing to the bitch, it would be something to the effect of "You're a bitch, a liar, and a whore, and I never thought my wife would stoop so low. Especially not to be with the likes of you." That, of course, would be completely juvenile, but the distressed attorney was too angry and hurt to think of a logical confrontation.

Casey glared at the red flashing numbers of her alarm clock. The sounds of the city, the changing time...everything was moving on, without her. She buried herself beneath the covers, sobbing herself into an uneasy sleep. She gave little concern for her own health. Baby Sarah, however, was the most important thing to her.

A mystery face loomed about the area, shrouded by an enormous question mark. A beautiful detective embraced the figure, kissing the question mark passionately. She whispered loving thoughts into the question mark's ear, empty promises made against her wife. She led the question mark to bed and proceeded to make passionate, steamy love to it. And when it was over, the question mark received an endearing assurance that it was the center of her world. The question mark just smiled, and winked at the person watching.

The watcher was forced to witness another round of passionate sex, full of loud groans of pleasure from the already taken detective. The sex echoed with cries that the question mark was better than the wife could ever be. And a closer glance revealed a horrifying fact: the bed was their bed. The wife was rooted to the ground, forced to watch, unable to avoid the laughter and the screams of ecstasy.

"You're better than she could ever be," the detective moaned. "I love you more than I ever loved her. Compared to you, what could she be? I am unsure if I want to return home. Love me...oh God, don't stop."

Hot tears streamed down the wife's cheeks through another passionate orgasm. She tried to wipe them, but found her arms bound. She gazed at the site before her, her heart shattering more with each passing second. She tried to cry out, to object that the detective was hers, but found herself mute. Unable to speak, unable to move, she could only cry and watch. And as the couple fell into each other's arms, falling into a satisfied sleep, the wife wanted nothing more than death.

"You're more than she could ever be. What is she next to you?" Laughter echoed across the room, bouncing off of the walls. "You're better than she could ever be." The taunt refused to subside. The image of the lovers was branded into her memory forever. "I could never leave your side for hers. Marry me. Marry me when I leave her."

Casey sat up, panting heavily. Throwing the covers off of her, she fumbled for the light switch. The lamp beside the bed illuminated the dark bedroom, throwing long shadows against the wall. It was only a dream. It was only a dream, she assured herself. But there was a single problem with the empty promise. It was more than just a horrifying dream. It was her life. It was her truth. And the empty side of her bed was only a cold reminder of the devastating reality she had been forced into.


	2. Chapter 2

Three cups of tea and what seemed a million hours later, Casey finished washing the dishes and putting them away. Her phone blinked, alerting her to another missed call. As she had done for the past several hours, the devastated attorney ignored the light, occasionally forcing herself to leave the room to avoid the glaring green alert message.

Finishing her tea and preparing another, Casey returned to the bedroom. The red numbers of the alarm clock beside her bed informed her that it was just past six AM. The crisp winter morning outside existed outside of time, and Casey sighed with the knowledge that she would be going to work in darkness once more. Then again, the weather blended perfectly with her heart's sadness.

The attorney finished her tea, placing the cup on her nightstand and entering the bathroom. After a thirty minute shower, she stood under the blistering water, allowing it to consume her. Maybe she would be lucky enough to drown. After all, a teaspoon of water could do the trick—why couldn't forty gallons? But, after another ten minutes, the redhead abandoned the hope, and stepped out of the shower. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Casey turned away in disgust. Her naked image glared back at her like a terrifying gargoyle stationed outside any Catholic church.

The towel wrapped around her naked body, Casey perched on the edge of the ceramic tub beside the shower. She wiped a tear that threatened to fall from her eyes, but it was a mere warning. Hundreds more began to stream down her porcelain cheeks, and by the time she was composed enough to stand without bracing herself, an extra thirty minutes had been consumed. Casey dressed like a zombie in a simple black suit. It was then that her gaze fell upon a fixture around her neck.

The diamond necklace Olivia had bought her for Christmas glared back at her. Casey, consumed by a sudden burst of rage, ripped it off of her neck, throwing it to the floor, barely noticing the aching rash it left on her neck. She looked like she had been strangled, but she cared little for people's thoughts. In fact, she cared little for much at all. Drying her hair and allowing it to fall naturally around her shoulders, Casey applied her makeup with a shaky hand. Checking her reflection one final time, she was shocked that it looked normal, considering how many times the tip of her eyeliner pen had stabbed her in the eye.

Casey slipped into a pair of onyx heels, and quietly exited the bathroom. Running on nothing but tea and despair, she drove to work in pure darkness. By the time she reached the office, the sun was looming on the horizon. Casey watched it from the back of the line pulling into the parking garage. It dangled in the sky, looming, ready to reveal its secrets and devastate the world. Meanwhile, it could just stay where it was, and not hurt anyone, as far as Casey was concerned.

Narrowly avoiding her accident as she pulled into her spot, Casey walked quickly to the elevator. She stabbed the button for the tenth floor, wishing briefly that the button would break. It was only when she reached the door of her office that she discovered something odd. A note was taped to the door. Casey grabbed it, willing herself not to read it. But as she unlocked her door and stepped inside, curiosity won the battle, and the attorney read the blasted piece of paper.

"Dear Casey," Olivia's strangely neat handwriting read. "I can never truly apologize for what I did. I could waste time telling you how it happened, and with who, but nothing would excuse the simple fact: it happened, and we can't change that. All I can do at this point is beg for your forgiveness. Being next to you every night was too hard, sweetie. I laid awake, willing myself to tell you what I had done, but I couldn't. Then, finally, I knew I had to, even though it would destroy you. That being said, I do not deserve or expect your forgiveness, but maybe someday, you will return to my arms and know that I will never stop loving you."

Casey examined the card for any sign of a final conclusion, but none existed. She was about to throw the letter away when she noticed the accessory on her desk. Twelve dozen roses stared at her, each more imposing than the last. The attorney read the card attached to the first bouquet. "Love, Olivia." Well, that explained the lack of ending to the letter. Olivia had always been romantic—sometimes even annoyingly so. One hundred and forty four roses only highlighted that minute character flaw.

Casey gathered the flowers, organizing them and setting them on the couch behind the main door. Casey retreated to the other half of her office and closed the sliding wooden doors to give herself privacy. She was intent on working. But as she sat down and stared blankly at the yellow notepad before her, her pen poised in an effort to compose a question list, she dropped the pen, curled up, and began to cry again.

She had been cheated on before. She had been hurt before. She had been abused, mentally and physically, by more than one man. But none of that had hurt her as much as what Olivia had done. Casey wanted desperately to run into her wife's arms and demand her to retract the sick joke, but again, she was faced with the knowledge that this was anything but a joke. It was not a joke, or a lie, or a dream. It was not a mistake. It was a deliberate move taken by the detective. Casey wondered if knowing who the mystery lover was would ease her pain, but she seriously doubted it. If she knew, she would be furious with two people instead of one, and while she still was, it made it a little easier knowing she couldn't scream at the bitch and ruin her reputation, and possibly career.

Although, as Casey glared at the yellow paper on her knees, she wondered if her career was destined for failure anyway. She couldn't think of any non-cheating questions. Asking the defendant "And why did you betray your wife" would hardly fit, as it was a mother charged with infanticide. And she could hardly ask the school teacher charged with the rape of his student "Who was the bitch? Tell me!" Yeah. She was royally screwed.

Casey jumped at a knock on the door. She quickly wiped the new tears, jumped to her feet, and returned to the main part of the office. Opening the door, she managed a tiny smile. It was only Robert, a new ADA around the office. "Robert, how are you?" Casey asked.

"Screwed, because I shouldn't be here." Casey didn't get a chance to wonder what that meant, before Robert's face broke out in a wide grin and he smiled at her like the Cheshire cat. "Casey, I have a question for you. I know you're always working and— and, well, I need to know if…"

"If I can give you some pointers?" Casey smiled. "I would have no problem with that, Robert," she answered.

"Great. Except, well, that's not my only question. You never talk about your husband, so I'm left assuming you do not have one. Do you need one? That is to say, I'm not asking you to marry me, but I am asking for a..uh…a date."

The word lingered in the air like a cloud hung in the air. Casey sighed, biting her lip. "Robert, I'm flattered, I really am. But I just can't. I have someone." At least, she thought she did. It was better than outright saying she was a lesbian.

He seemed to read her mind. "So the rumors are true?" he asked, intrigued. "The rumors about you and Detective Benson? Wow. You guys are really doing it?"

He couldn't have been more than twenty five. Casey, therefore, resisted the urge to smack him. "Robert, you will not get far in this place if you base your research on rumors you hear. You will hear a lot. You will hear that Amy down the hall regularly attends orgies, and that the boss has a stripper habit. You have to learn to sort fact from fiction."

"So it's not true?"

The way he looked at her made Casey soften a bit. His earnest chocolate brown gaze reminded her a bit of Olivia when she was trying to convince a not-in-the-mood Casey to make love. Deciding she could trust him, Casey nodded. "Yes. It is true. Detective Benson and I are…" What were they? Together? Married? Separated? Fucked? The redhead chose her next words carefully. "We are married," she admitted slowly.

"Oh." Robert's gaze fell, his shoulders drooping to the ground. "Well, tonight I wanted to check out that club everyone is always talking about. I was wondering if you wanted to go? Um, in a strictly non date kind of way, of course," he quickly clarified. "I completely understand."

Casey bit her lip again. It was a bad idea. She needed time to heal from what Olivia had done. But she also needed comfort. She wasn't attracted to this novice. She knew she wasn't. How could she be? But a night out could be the difference between insanity and stability. A night out, building new friendships, could prove beneficial, and Casey decided, in a split second conclusion, that she would accept the offer. So, she replied "I guess we can go. But it doesn't mean anything, Robert. I am still married."

"Right. Is your wife going? Man, I'd love to meet her."

"No. She's not going," Casey answered in mock apology. Why did he seem so eager to get her out and about, and by herself? And why was he equally as eager to meet Olivia? Casey banished the thought, willing herself to stop thinking like an attorney. She shrugged. "Besides, I can be just as much fun without her."

"I bet. But why isn't she going?"

Did he have to ask so many questions? Casey spoke through her teeth. "She's working," she lied slowly. It was hardly a full lie. Olivia was always working. Whether she would be investigating a crime scene or a bedroom was the question. "What time?" the attorney asked to deflect the conversation.  
Robert, clearly caught off guard and sidetracked, smiled. "How about eight?"

"Eight sounds good. But for now, I have work to do, and if you don't, you should. Go busy yourself. An attorney's work is never finished."

"You're so brilliant!" He declared, hastily rushing to the elevator and disappearing.

Casey sighed, retreating to the safety of her office. Yeah. That was her. So brilliant and beautiful that the love of her love couldn't resist the urge to betray her with another woman. So irresistible that she was clearly unable to satisfy Olivia as much as the detective needed. So—Her cell phone rang, interrupting her train of thought. Casey jabbed the end button, sending the caller to voicemail without looking. She was not in much of a talking mood.

She sat behind her desk, crossing her legs and gingerly touching her neck. The force of ripping the necklace off had left tiny welts upon her skin, which throbbed under her touch. Casey winced, pulling her hand away. The necklace was thrown carelessly to the side. It laid broken and torn on the floor, utterly alone and forgotten about.

It was funny how much an object could mean.

_Author's note: Well, what do you think? I promised to update once a week. Trying to keep with that promise. Please read and review. Be warned that the next several chapters will shock you. Someone will burn; someone will find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time; and someone will discover a new form of entertainment. I hope you're as excited to read the upcoming sections as I am to write them. Please R&R. Thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3

At eleven thirty that night, Casey sighed, tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger. Robert had left to get them more drinks. The redhead could not deny her gratitude, though it was hardly aimed at the prospect of another drink. Rather, she was delighted at the thought of being alone for five minutes. Robert had hovered around her all night, leering outside the restroom when she left to fix her lipstick, forcing her to dance when she wasn't in the mood. She was not allowed out of his sight, and it was beginning to tax her.

Right on cue, he reappeared, a scotch in one hand and a beer in the other. Handing Casey the scotch, Robert smiled. "Have I mentioned just how lovely you look tonight?"

"Have I mentioned just how thankful I am?" Casey retorted, her sarcasm clouding her voice. She only half meant it. People clearly thought they were a couple. A photographer inside had offered to email them a loving picture, and the bartender had dared Robert to kiss Casey in exchange for free beer all night. Needless to say, Casey had quickly refused.

"Right." Robert smiled, popping the lid off of his beer and downing half of it in one swallow. He smiled, and Casey could smell the stench of the liquid on his breath. She wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to gag. "So." He grinned again. "Want to dance?"

"No, thank you," Casey answered.

"Aww, come on. You have to dance. Why go to a club if you don't want to dance? That's like going to a restaurant and only ordering water."

Casey pushed her scotch away, sighing deeply. "Robert," she began, launching into her millionth explanation. "I am not in the mood to dance, alright? Maybe later."

"But we're here as a couple." Robert pouted at her from across the table.

At that, Casey's emerald eyes flashed forest green, her anger rapidly escalating. It had been like this all night, and she was ready to call it a night, buy a cat, and go home. "This is not a date, Robert. I'm married," she reminded him. Even if her partner was a cheating bitch.

"Right." Robert smirked, drinking the remaining half of his beer. "So what is lesbian sex like? Do you like use toys and stuff? I've seen all the videos. But doesn't that defeat the purpose of being gay?"

Casey nearly knocked her drink over, her body quivering with fury. "My sex life is of no concern to you, Robert. I came here with you for one reason: to be social. This is not a date. This is not a hook up. And this is certainly not an opportunity to discuss what I do outside of work." She hated to be such a bitch, but really, this was getting out of hand.

Cowering like a wounded puppy, Robert stood. "I'll get more drinks," he said, nearly knocking his chair over as he scurried away.

Casey used the opportunity to read her phone without being questioned. There were four voicemails, which corresponded to four missed calls from Olivia. Three texts assured her that Olivia wanted only her, and that she would do anything to get her back. Casey sighed, turned her phone off, and turned to her purse, which was hanging on the arm of the chair opposite the bar. When she had retrieved her lipstick, she turned around, coming face to face with Robert.

Well, face to chest. His gaze was focused directly on her cleavage enhancing dress. Casey cringed slightly. "That was fast," she murmured.

Robert nodded, and Casey could see that he was salivating at the sight of her rounded breasts. Afraid that he was going to reach out, Casey leaned backwards inconspicuously. "I think this should be our last round," she murmured. "I don't want to get too drunk. Neither should you. We have to drive, and it is ridiculous to break the law when you're a lawyer."  
"Mhm," the young man squeaked. He licked his lips appreciatively. "God, your wife is lucky. Your chest is delicious. What I wouldn't give to…"

"Robert!" Casey scolded. "Stop it. You're drunk, and you are being absolutely ridiculous." But her nerves were rapidly escalating, and she bit her lip. "You know, it's eleven thirty, and I am very tired." She yawned to emphasize her lie. "I think I want to go home." She stood. "Are you ready?"  
"No! I want to dance! I want to drink, to have fun with you!"

Casey shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry. I'm just not interested in you like that, alright? We can still be friends though, I promise. Now let's go home."

As if suddenly sober, Robert nodded. He clearly understood that Casey wasn't budging. "Maybe you can come back to my place. I'll sleep on the couch. I worry about you driving all the way across town."

Always quick to point out the flaws in an argument, Casey answered "Robert, we are on the Upper East Side. You live in Brooklyn. You have a much further drive than me. And that is another reason you need to stop drinking."

But Robert didn't answer. Before Casey could react, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately. Casey immediately attempted to pull free, but he refused, slipping his tongue past her ruby lips and down her throat. Casey finally managed to push him off of her. Too stunned to say much, too horrified to think much, she grabbed her purse and coat, rushing out of the club quickly. She somehow made it to her car and out of the parking lot without him catching up to her. All she wanted was to go home, drown her mouth in Listerine, and scrub her brain with Palm. And as she drove, another thought surfaced in her mind: the signs had been there all night. She had simply been too stupid to see them. Little did she know that things were soon to get much worse.

Hours later, sprawled in bed, Casey typed her phone password a hundred times, opening a blank text message to Olivia. She desperately needed to confide in her wife, to tell her what had happened. But was Olivia too biased? Would she only see the fact that Casey had screwed herself over? And how would she react to the knowledge that Casey had gone out with someone, a man, regardless of the platonic nature of the encounter? Yeah. Olivia wasn't the best option, and a kiss was something she did not want to share with the rest of the squad. So she just rolled onto her side, closed her eyes, and waited for sleep to consume her.

She woke to a loud crash. At first thinking it had come from outside, she laid back down, but a car alarm suddenly blared through the streets. Casey recognized it as her own. She jumped to her feet, pulled back the curtains beside her bed, and peered down at the street below. She spotted her car beside the curb, and everything seemed fine. Until a closer look revealed that it was not. A shadowy figure darted away from the car. Casey grabbed her cell phone, prepared to dial 911, and quietly crept outside to her car. She gasped when she saw what had been done to it.

The word dyke was branded in scarlet paint across the windshield. Pictures of herself and Olivia littered the smashed hood. And various other words had been tattooed onto her beloved car. As she stepped around the broken glass, Casey was able to make out the words bitch, whore, slut, and deceiver by her phone's light. She turned away from the scene, trying to spot the mysterious vandal. But the street was empty, silent save the blaring of her broken car.

"Wait, they did what?"

Casey, who had reluctantly called Olivia, tearfully explained what she had found again. Then she launched into the explanation of her front door. It, too, had been branded with the word dyke, and pictures of tiny penises decorated it from frame to knob. "They ruined it," she murmured, sniffling. "And I know it's just a car and a door but…Olivia, I'm scared," she confessed.

Olivia sighed. "This seems random. It's so sudden…so impulsive. Can you think of anyone who would want to do this?"

Well, there was one person. In calling Olivia, Casey had ultimately forced her own hand. "Olivia, I have to tell you something. I went out tonight. I was at that new club."

"And you went with another woman, and returned the favor, right?"

"What? No. Unlike someone, my bottoms stay buttoned." Casey sighed. How could Olivia think that of her? But that was another issue for another argument. "I was with someone, but it was that new ADA from the office. His name is Robert, and he asked me to go with him and check the club out tonight. I made it clear that I was married and that it meant nothing. But I also told him I was married to a woman. And well…he deduced the rest, arriving on your name."

Olivia sighed. "You outed us to a stranger? Casey, what the hell? Do you know how dangerous that can be? After all of the hate crimes we've seen in our—"

"I'm not ashamed of my marriage, Olivia! If someone wants to hurt me because I'm a lesbian, let them, because it won't change my love for you! But that's not my point. He was so pushy all night, and he kept looking at me like he was a hungry tiger and I a juicy sirloin." The rest spilled out. The dancing, the drinks, his sexual curiosity, and finally, the kiss. Then Casey explained how she had once again informed him that she was gay, and rushed out. "That was all tonight. I rejected him and now my car is branded, and so is my door."

"Does he seem violent to you?" Olivia asked.

"I didn't think so…until the kiss. But I think he was just overeager."

"Casey, I don't care. Get the hell out of there. I want you to go to your parents' house. Take time off of work to get this sorted out. I hurt you enough. I don't need someone else licking their chops and hurting my wife. Get out tomorrow morning. Understood? I'll investigate when Nick gets here, and we'll head to the house together."

"Olivia, I—"

"Don't argue with me. Casey, you may be royally pissed at me, but you can't deny that you still love me. And if you do still love me, then get out of that place immediately. Baby, I can't stand the thought of someone hurting you. I would die a million painful deaths if it meant protecting you."

Casey sighed. Olivia's caring made her heart swell against her will. "I'll leave in the morning," she conceded. "But fix this, Olivia. Please. I…I never meant for it to go this far, and I dragged you down with me."

"I can take care of myself, Casey. Now try to get some sleep. I will check up on you tomorrow. Goodnight." Olivia hung up after a quiet 'I love you'.

Casey tossed her cell phone onto Olivia's side of the bed and laid down. But the word dyke was as branded into her memory as it was onto her car. And no matter how hard she tossed and turned, it only seemed to grow brighter, mocking her.

Elsewhere, someone lurked near the building, watching the redhead's bedroom light switch off. They chuckled lowly, shaking the can of paint and darting off to plan their next steps. They retrieved a phone from their pocket and dialed a phone number from perfect memory. The line rang. It was about to be picked up by someone who had no inkling of the horrors to come.

_Author's note: This story is about to become violent within the next five chapters. Just a head's up. Please read and review. Thanks for reading!_


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